


Someone Else's Story

by dreabean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Artist!Sam, Coming Out, F/M, First Time, Incest, M/M, Multi, Suicide Attempt, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-17 01:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/171353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/pseuds/dreabean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - John gives the boys up for adoption, and at an early age Dean and Sam are separated then later adopted into two different families, in two different states. By a chance of Fate (whose name is Castiel) the two brothers find each other - Sam’s in 10th grade, the youngest in his class having skipped several grades, and Dean, also in 10th grade is his ‘penpal’. Dean thinks the whole thing is dumb, Sam’s just glad to have a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> IMAGE HEAVY. All letters are actually done in letter format, photo-manipulated and done in Photoshop CS4. Sketch brushes and tea cup stains are not mine. Everything else I did on my own. (I also deliberately got Sam's birthday incorrect.) Also, many of the sketches done in the sketchbooks are rated NC-17, and are therefore not-safe-for-work. Please view with caution. This story deals with some difficult concepts, coming out in the late 90s/early 2000's, suicide as an idea and the practical application of (there is NO character death.)

** Someone Else's Story **

** Year One **

  
**September 19th - May 20th 1995**

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*End 


	2. Year Two

Someone Else's Story

 

Year Two

 **S** **eptember 19th 1994 - May 20th 1995**

 

 **S**   

* 

  


 

  


*  * 

  


*  

  


“Hello?”  
 __

  


  


_A smile._ “Hey, Sammy.”

  


  


“Dean!” _A grin._

  


  


“I thought I said to call me?”

  


  


“I didn’t know if you were done with dinner. Besides, I knew you’d call if I didn’t.”

  


  


“I’m not that predictable am I?” _A laugh_.

  


  


“Uh-huh.”

  


  


“I am? How was art?”

  


  


“Meh. Pretty much the same as every other class I’m in, extra-curricular or not.” _A long sigh._ “Everything I do is overlooked, and I’m generally ignored. I mean, my teacher praises my compositions but doesn’t take my opinion seriously.”

  


  


“Can’t your parents do anything?”

  


  


“Oh probably. If they knew.”

  


  


_Scowl._ “Sam.”

  


  


“Dean.”

  


  


“You should tell someone. If not your parents, than someone who can help you.”

  


  


“It’s not a big deal, Dean. I’m leaving in a year anyway. I think I know what I want to go to college for.”

  


  


“Yeah?”

  


  


“I think so. I want to be a lawyer.”

  


  


_Snort._ “A what?”

  


  


“Dean! A lawyer!”

  


  


“What do you want to be a lawyer for? What about your art?”

  


  


“I like drawing. I don’t ever want to hate doing it because I need to do it to survive. What have you got against lawyers anyway?”

  


  


“It just seems so...stuffy.”

  


  


“Says the jock.”

  


  


“Bite me.”

  


  


_Laughter._

  


  


“Okay, I have to go. Call you next Tuesday?”

  


  


“Yeah. Talk to you later, bitch.”

  


  


_Smile._ “Bye, jerk.”  

  


*

  


*  *  * 

  


*

  


“Hello, Charleston Residence?”

  


  


“Uh, Dean?”

  


  


_Relaxed, a smile_. “Hey Sammy.”

  


  


“Dean! You’ll never believe what happened today!”

  


  


“What, Sammy?”

  


  


“I got asked to draw three pieces for the local art show!”

  


  


“That’s awesome, Sam. What pieces are you doing?”

  


  


“I don’t know yet. The one of my Aunt Kay, and her baby, I think. My cat, Milo. And maybe the one of you.”

  


  


_Pause. Confusion._ “Of me? You only have one picture of me.”

  


  


_A grin_. “I drew one based off you.”

  


  


“You...did? I want to see.”

  


  


“So come to the art gallery. It’s in a month.”

  


  


_A chuckle._ “Any holidays in a month?”

  


  


“It’s October. Veteran’s day?”

  


  


“Too soon. You’ll have to tell me about it instead.”

  


  


_A long sigh_. “I wish we were older.”

  


  


“Speak for yourself dude. I’m going to be eighteen in January.”

  


  


_Snort._ “I’ll be in fifteen in November.”

  


  


“Speaking of, how was your date?”

  


  


_Pause._ “Miserable. God, Dean, it was awful. She’s in my art class, and I really thought she was, I don’t know, nice. Her name is Jo, and she’s pretty...I guess. Her art is very edgy, almost violent and uses really fantastic composition in her colors. But...she’s...kind of a bitch.”

  


  


_Laughter._ “A bitch? How so?”

  


  


“Well, she’s...very...judgmental. I don’t know. Maybe I’m too smart for girls.”

  


  


“No one is too smart for girls, Sammy, even if your IQ is 165. You’ll figure it out. Maybe you’re just too smart for her, specifically.”

  


  


_Quiet._ “I don’t know, Dean. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you next week.”

  


  


“Hey, wait, Sam I –!”

  


  


_Click._  

  


*  *  * 

  
  
  
  
  


* 

  


 

  


*

  


  


“Hello?”

  


  


“Uh. Hi, Mrs. Hastings, is Sam there?”

  


  


“Oh hello Dean, how are you?”

  


  


_Pause_.

  


  


“I’m a little worried about Sam, actually. He didn’t call me last night, and no one answered every time I called.”

  


  


“We went out for Sam’s birthday, it was an early dinner, because his real birthday is on a Monday. No one wants to go out after a Monday at school.”

  


  


“Oh. Well, is he there now?”

  


  


_Slowly._ “I think he went to bed early, Dean, his door is closed and I don’t want to disturb him. Can I leave him a message for you?”

  


  


“Just...tell him to call me.”

  


  


“Sure Dean, of course. Have a good night, now.”

  


  


“Yeah, you too.”  

  


*

  


  


*

  


  


“Hi, you’ve reached the Hastings, neither Cindy, Kyle or Sam can answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name, your number and short message we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Oh! And don’t forget to wait for the beep, have a nice day and thanks for calling!”

  


  


_Beep_.

  


  


“Uh, Hi, Sammy. It’s me, I just...we haven’t talked in a while, and I wanted to...to catch up. Give me a call okay? You know the number.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Sam, come on man. Just call me back. I don’t want to fill up your mom’s message machine because you’re not talking to me for whatever reason. Is this about Jo? Just, call me, okay?”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Sam. Seriously? Call me back.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi Sam, you probably don’t recognize my voice but we talked briefly a few weeks ago when you called. I’m Claudia, Dean’s youngest sister. I might be the youngest, but I’m older than him by two months. Look, I don’t know what you two fought about and when Dean catches me with your number, he’ll kill me, but sweetie, call him, okay?”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“SAM. WHATEVER CLAUD TOLD YOU. IGNORE HER. AND CALL ME, BITCH!”

  


  


_Beep._ “Okay. It’s been two weeks. Clearly the shine on me has worn off. Or thin. Or whatever. Good luck at the art show tonight dude.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi, this is a message for Sam Hastings. This is Roberta Cleary from the Talented Youths of the Berkshires, we met briefly at the Art Show last week. I’m calling to offer you a position at Store Front Artists in Pittsfield. I know you’re only fifteen, and you’d need permission from your parents, but we’d love for you to teach some of the younger generation who take classes here. Anyway, call me back. 413-555-9273.”

  


  


_Beep._  

  


  


  


* 

  


  


*

  


  


“Hello?”

  


  


“Hi, Mrs. Hastings. Please tell me that Sam is there and actually wants to talk to me?”

  


  


_A chuckle._ “He’s right here, practically hasn’t left the phone all day.”

  


  


“Thanks.”

  


  


_Pause._

  


  


“Dean! Dean I am so sorry, I just had to get my head on straight and I owe you calling me bitch so many times and I won’t even retaliate and I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me, I’m so glad you called.”

  


  


_Chuckle._ “It’s okay Sam. You owe me one hell of an explanation.”

  


  


“My date with Jo, it really threw me off.”

  


  


“Why?”

  


  


“Dean, before you I lived my entire life alone. Everything I did was carefully calculated to be...analyzed. I’m not...very scientific, I mean, I understand it and I’m even good at it. But after skipping fifth grade, I realized that I —I was resigned to the fact that until I make it to college I am going to be very alone for a very long time.”

  


  


“Sammy...”

  


  


“You’re the only person I let call me that. Jo tried and I totally bit her head off. My dad was really upset I never called her back because he’s known her father Bill for a really long time.”

  


  


_Chuckle._ “You’re rambling.”

  


  


“Right. Sorry. I just...I needed to work things out on my own. And I didn’t want to talk about it. I still don’t.”

  


  


_Pause._ “Did you work it out?”

  


  


“Yeah. I drew it out. Took up the last five pages of my sketch book.”

  


  


“You feel better?”

  


  


“I’m still fucked. But yeah, I feel better.”

  


  


_Low whistle_. “Fucked huh?”

  


  


“Oh yeah. Completely.”

  


  


“If you want to talk about it, you know my number, Sammy.”

  


  


_Smile._ “Thanks, Dean. I really appreciate it.”

  


  


“I have to go Sammy, but hey?”

  


  


“What?”

  


  


“Happy Birthday.”  

  


* 

  
  
  
  


*

  


“Hi, you’ve reached the Hastings, neither Cindy, Kyle or Sam can answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name, your number and short message we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Oh! And don’t forget to wait for the beep, have a nice day and thanks for calling!”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hey Sam, it’s Jo. Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, so I just thought I’d give you a call. Let’s try again. Call me back okay? Maybe we can meet at the library this time, have coffee. I need a little help with my perspective.”

  


  


*End


	3. Year Three

Someone Else's Story

  


  


Year Three

  


June 7th 1996 - April 24th 1997

  


  


  


  *  *  *  * 

  


  


*

  


“Hello, this is Kyle.”

  


  


“Hi, Mr. Hastings, can I talk to Sam please?”

  


  


“Sure, Dean. Let me get him.” _Pause_. “SAM!”

  


  


_Wince._ “Thanks, Mr. Hastings.”

  


  


_Pause. Clattering. Muffled words._

  


  


“Dean! Hi!”

  


  


“Sammy, I have a very important question to ask you.”

  


  


_Pause. Terror. Gasp._ “What, Dean?” _Too quiet_.

  


  


“Why is there a letter from you, addressed to my sister sitting on my kitchen table?”

  


  


_Pause. Sigh. Relief._ “She wrote me first.” _Too loud_.

  


  


“What did she want to know?”

  


  


“They.”

  


  


“They?”

  


  


“Yes. They. All four of them wrote me.”

  


  


_Pause. Confusion._ “All of them?”

  


  


_Pained._ “Uh huh.”

  


  


“How did they get your address?!”

  


  


_Pointed. Silence_.

  


  


“Oh, me huh?”

  


  


“Duh, Dean.”

  


  


“Well, what did they want to know? They had to want to know something, otherwise they would have just asked me how you were. Right?”

  


  


“They wanted to ask about my art.”

  


  


“Your...art?”

  


  


“Yeah. They saw the picture I’d done up of you, said you had it on your dart board and wanted to know if I did commissions.”

  


  


“Seriously?”

  


  


“Seriously.”

  


  


“What did you say?”

  


  


“I do commissions if I like the media.”

  


  


“So you like me, huh?” _Sly._

  


  


“Shut up, jerk.”

  


  


“Make me, bitch.”

  


  


_Pause. Muffled words._ “I have to go Dean, so I’ll make you later.”

  


  


“Bye Sam. Be good.”

  


  


_Smirk._ “Always.”

  


  


_Click._

  


  


*

  


  


“Sorry you’ve missed us, please leave a message and we’ll back to you later. Maybe.”

  


  


“Hi Dean, it’s Sam, I just wanted to call and wish you luck on the game tonight but apparently I screwed up my time zones, again, so you can hear my lame-ass luck when you get back in. Call me tomorrow and give me all the details.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi, Dean, this is Sarah. I’m a little annoyed you, like, you were supposed to call me last night and when you didn’t, I figured you were just busy. But like, when I called? You were totally on the phone. You weren’t talking to Madison were you, ‘cause like, that’s only a rumor, right?”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi, Dean. It’s Madison. You promised to call me last night...and you didn’t. Again. Look, I don’t care if you’re screwing Sarah on the side, okay? Everyone already knows about it and no one can keep a secret here anyhow. Call me okay? We’ll work it out. Just don’t tell Sarah.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Dean, Ruby. Call me. You so owe me some make-up dinner, asshole.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Um...hi Dean, this is Lily. I just wanted...well, I wanted to see what you were doing tomorrow night. I don’t know if you have a date to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and the girls have to ask, so I’m asking. I just...you’re the only decent guy in school. Please call me back.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi Dean, it’s Sam again. I know I just called like, twenty minutes ago but I forgot to tell you that I won’t be around on Tuesday - they’ve upped my hours at SAF, so I’ll call you when I get out okay? Should be around 7 or 8 your time. Sorry!”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


*

  


*  * 

  
  
  
  


*

“Sorry you’ve missed us, please leave a message and we’ll back to you later. Maybe.”

 

 _Beep._

 

“Hi Dean, it’s Sam...you must be sleeping or something, sorry it’s so late that I called. I just wanted to keep my promise. SAF got out way late, because one of the local theaters is renting out the upstairs as a practice and rehearsal space and they wouldn’t leave, you have no idea it was so annoying. So yeah, I didn’t get out until 9, and dad was pretty pissed. So it’s probably 12 your time, I just didn’t want to freak you out, or whatever. Call me tomorrow sometime, okay? Bye, sleep well.”

 

 _Beep._

 

 _  
_

*  

  


*

  


“Hello, Charleston Residence.”

  


  


“Hi Dean.” _Smile._

  


  


_Grin_. “Sammy.”

  


  


“Do you ever get really weird dreams that you just...know mean something but you can’t figure out what because they make no sense, really? But you can’t help but wonder because they’re so vivid you wake up wondering why you aren’t where you fell asleep?”

  


  


“Uh...” _startled laughter_ “not especially. Maybe once or twice...why?”

  


  


“Because I keep having them. And I keep seeing these symbols...I draw them as clearly as I can but I can’t find them anywhere in any book I’ve ever looked in and the librarians in my town think I’m fucking nuts.”

  


  


“Well, what’s happening?”

  


  


“Scary shit, Dean. I mean it. Like, wake up screaming scary.”

  


  


_Pause. Quiet._ “Like what?”

  


  


“Like, I dreamed I died, dude. Some really, really, inhumanly, x-men like strong black guy in army fatigues came up behind me and sliced my spine. I felt it, Dean. I could feel every inch of that knife in my back and it hurt. You aren’t supposed to feel pain in dreams.”

  


  


“Dude, you aren’t supposed to die in dreams either.”

  


  


“Yeah but I didn’t stay dead. Some guy brought me back. He had really green eyes and wore a leather jacket. He kept screaming my name. And it didn’t bother me when he called me Sammy, either. Maybe it was you?”

  


  


“Maybe. But dude, no freaky black man in fatigues with Superman strength is ever going to kill you while I’m around. Get it?”

  


  


“Got it.”

  


  


“Good.”

  


  


_Pause._

  


  


“Dean?”

  


  


“Yeah?”

  


  


“Thanks.”

  


  


_Smile_. “You’re welcome, Sammy.”

  


  


_Click_.  

  


*  

  
  


*  

  


"Yo.”

  


  


_Snort. Rolled eyes._ “Hi, Dean.”

  


  


_Grin._ “Sammy. I got your messages last night. Thanks for the luck. We needed it.”

  


  


“You didn’t win?”

  


  


“Oh we won...by the skin of our teeth. Bubba lost a few of those in a particularly rough tackle.”

  


  


_Wince_. “Well...that sucks.”

  


  


“Beyond the telling.” _Shifting. Groan._ “I am so sore, you have no idea.”

  


  


“Well at least you won.”

  


  


_Laugh_. “Yeah, I suppose. So what’s up on your side of the country? How’s soccer and the SAF?”

  


  


“Eh, we lost our last game, so we’re out of the Finals. Couch is ready to split a seam but no one else seems to care.”

  


  


_Snort._ “That’s because you play a girly sport.”

  


  


“Says the man who gets his ass slapped daily.”

  


  


“Bite me.”

  


  


“Later, maybe. SAF is good, but I really wish Bertha would stop renting out the top floor to persnickety assholes who think they own the world. I’m going to be sixteen in like, two days, I don’t want to spend my time running around after him.”

  


  


“Shit, two days? Man, I don’t even think about Halloween anymore.”

  


  


“Aren’t we too old?”

  


  


“You more than me.”

  


  


“Shut up, you dick, you’re three years older than me.”

  


  


“So?” _Silence_. “What are your parents getting you for this years birthday?”

  


  


_Quiet_. “A therapist.”

  


  


“...What?”

  


  


“Um. I haven’t really been sleeping that great. I have nightmares. Dean, I’m so freakin’ tired...”

  


  


“Shit Sammy, why didn’t you tell me?”

  


  


“You have other things to worry about.”

  


  


“Like what?”

  


  


“Like Sarah, and Madison, and Lily and Ruby and all those other girls you’re seeing.”

  


  


_Pause_. “Who told you?” _Resigned._

  


  


“Claudia.”

  


  


“So, she’ll die tomorrow. Got it.”

  


  


“No, Dean, it’s okay. I didn’t tell you about Jo, and how we’re seeing each other again. And there’s this girl named Ava who keeps sitting with me at lunch. She’s a Freshman though. And Cassie, the editor for the paper, she’s real nice. So don’t feel bad okay? Just don’t get hurt.”

  


  


“But, a therapist?”

  


  


“My dad thinks it will help, since I won’t talk to him. I’m covered in charcoal, Dean.”

  


  


“What’s that mean?”

  


  


“I’m drawing out what I feel and dad says it’s not healthy. So I have to go to therapy for at least six months or they’re pulling me out of school and making me finish the year at home.”

  


  


“So fake it, for six months.”

  


  


“If it helps, I don’t want have to fake it.”

  


  


_Contemplating._ “Think it will really help?”

  


  


“I don’t know...maybe? Something has to.”

  


  


“You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

  


  


_Small smile._ “Yeah Dean. Thanks.”

  


  


_Click._    

  


 

  
  


*

  


  


“So, Sam, I’m Dr. Webb, but you can call me Zak okay?”

  


  


_Small smile._ “Hi Zak. I’m a little nervous.”

  


  


“Why?”

  


  


“I don’t...talk to people.”

  


  


“That’s understandable, especially in the here and now. And, as a fifteen year old senior at Pittsfield, I bet it’s hard to connect to your peers.”

  


  


“I’m either too smart for them to bother or too smart for them to try.”

  


  


“So who do you talk to?”

  


  


“Dean.”

  


  


“Who is Dean?”

  


  


“Well, that’s kind of a story.” _Clears throat._ “Last year, when I was a sophomore, I was in Mrs. Dillard’s English class. She had this silly idea that things were changing too fast around us and we were losing our ability to communicate. She got in contact with a sophomore English class in Breckenridge, Colorado. My pen-pal, such as he was, is Dean. We got to be pretty good friends, and now we talk every week on the phone.”

  


  


“So Dean is your best friend?”

  


  


_Pause_. “I guess so, yeah.”

  


  


“Dean is probably quite a bit older than you, isn’t he?”

  


  


“He’s eighteen. Will be nineteen in January.”

  


  


“And he doesn’t mind that you’re younger?”

  


  


“Hey!” _Scowl_. “I might only be sixteen but I’m way older than that in my head. Which, is probably my problem.”

  


  


“So if your parents weren’t worried about your social activities...why do you think you’re here, Sam?”

  


  


“I don’t sleep.”

  


  


“You don’t?”

  


  


“Well, not much anyway.” _Pause._ “Doctor? Have you ever felt like you’re supposed to be someone else? Or that everyone around was meant to be a stranger?”

  


  


“Sometimes, I suppose. Why, do you feel that way?”

  


  


“I have these...dreams.”

  


  


“Dreams? Tell me about them.”  

  


* 

  
  


*  

  


*

  


  


“Hi, you’ve reached the Hastings, neither Cindy, Kyle and Sam can answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name, your number and short message we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Oh! And don’t forget to wait for the beep, have a nice day and thanks for calling!” _Beep._ “Hi Sam, it’s Jo. Just confirming our date for tomorrow night. Good luck at the game tonight!”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hey Sam, it’s Ava. Mrs. Jackson gave me your number so I could ask you about the Freshmen project, so give me a call back okay? 413-555-8211 Thanks!”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Sam, it’s Andy. Dude, seriously that goal you scored was amazing! Look, Ansem and I want to take you out after practice tomorrow. Don’t worry, it’s not creepy or anything.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Sam, it’s Ansem, I don’t know if my brother called but if he didn’t, we’re so taking you for drinks tomorrow after practice. You’re pretty cool, for a sixteen year old. Let us know.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Sam, it’s Anna, hey, I was just wondering how things were going. I know we haven’t talked since Sophomore Year Math but I was just wondering if you were sticking around after you graduation this year - and isn’t that strange to say? - anyway, we’re doing shout outs to seniors for Angel Radio so if you have any, let me know okay? Thanks, hon.”

  


  


_Beep._

  


  


“Hi Sam, this is Cassie from the Yearbook. You haven’t filled out your questionnaire yet, so I mailed you a new one. Please, please, please get this to me before Christmas vacation. Thanks!”

  


  


_Beep_.

  


  


“Sam, it’s Dean. Dude, where are you? I’ve called like, ten times. It’s Tuesday, man. Where are you?”

  


  


_Beep.  
_

  


* 

  
  


*

  


“Charleston Residence?”

  


  


“Hi Dean.”

  


  


_Relief._ “Jesus, Sam. Where the hell have you been?”

  


  


“Zak moved our sessions to Tuesday, so now I’m there after practice and SAF on Tuesday and Thursday. I’m on sleeping pills, so its not so hard to sleep anymore.”

  


  


“That’s good, I guess. When can you call?”

  


  


“I’m calling now, aren’t I?” _Amused_. “I can call Mondays, Wednesday and any weekend. Fridays Andy and Ansem go out with me to the Pizza place by the school. I spend most of my time with them.”

  


  


“Andy and Ansem?”

  


  


“Yeah, they’re twin brothers who practically have the run of the school. They’re really smart but pretend not to be, kind of like you.”

  


  


_Snort._ “I’m glad you have friends, Sammy.”

  


  


“Don’t worry Dean,” grin “no one else can call me that.”

  


  


“Just me?”

  


  


“Mm-hmm. Just you.”

  


  


“Good.” _Pause_. “So how are the dreams?”

  


  


_Pause. Confusion._ “What dreams?”  

  


* 

  
  
  


*End


	4. Year Four

Someone Else’s Story

Year Four: May 3rd 1997 - June 19th 1998

  


*

  
*

  
  


  


  
*  


  


*

  


  
*

  
   


*

*

  


*

  


  
*

  


*

  


  
*

  


*

  


  
*

  


  
*

 

  


*

  


“So Sam, let’s talk about your art today.”

“Okay? What about my art?”

“Last week you mentioned that SFA wanted to show you. At the risk of sounding stereotypical, how do you feel about that?”

 _Grin._ “I’m excited but seriously stressed out because so much of my work is done small scale, and unfinished. Getting it all done is pretty harrowing, what with all the regular work. Good thing I’m a genius.”

“That’s the first time, I think, I’ve heard you refer to your intelligence in a positive way.”

 _Shrug_. “I can’t change it, you know? And yeah, I’m a sixteen year old high school almost-graduate, but I’ve got friends too.”

“Yes, you mentioned them. Andy, and his brother Ansem.” _Smile_. “How is that going?”

“It’s...great, actually. Andy is the youngest of the two but he’s definitely the more mature.” _Grin_. “They’re good models and really good listeners.”

“Do you feel they’re replacing Dean?”

 _Smile fades._ “No...I mean, Dean and I still talk all the time.”

“But, having a long term, long distance relationship is hard on adults, let alone teenagers.”

 _Pale_. “It’s not a relationship. We’re just friends.”

“Sam.” _Kindly_. “I am a therapist, everything you tell me is confidential. If you’re having a homosexual relationship with Dean, you can tell me.”

 _Quietly_. “I am not having a..a homosexual relationship with Dean. I am sleeping with Andy...”

“So you are a homosexual?”

“...And Ansem.”  
 _  
Pause_. “I see.”

“Dean doesn’t know.”

“Sam, as a gay male, life can be very difficult, so I won’t complicated it by asking too many questions. Just one. Are you being safe?”

 _Nod_. “We used condoms both times. I’m a genius remember?”

 _Laugh_. “Okay. One more question before you have to go, and I’ll bring it back to your art. You’ve signed all these drawings SW. Why?”

 _Blink_. “It’s my pseudonym. Sam Winchester.”

 

  


*

  
  


*

  


*

 

  


*

  


“Hello?”

“Hey Sam!”

“Uh...sorry, this is Sam’s friend, Ansem? Sam’s upstairs, he told me to grab the phone, he’s just out of the shower now.”

“Oh. Well, hi, Ansem. This is Dean.”

“Oh my God, you’re Dean? The Dean?!”

“Um.”

“Holy shit, Sam never stops talking about you. I was starting to get jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Well Jesus Christ, you really do exist. Damn. Guess I have some competition after all.”

“Competition?”

“Well yeah, I mean, I know I’m awesome, at least, but damn the way Sam talks about you? Shit.”

 _Pause. Footsteps. Muffled words._ “It’s Dean, Sambo, chill out.” _Muffled shouting. Clattering._

“Hi Dean.”

 _Relief._ “Sammy.”

 _Worried._ “Is everything okay?”

 _Grin._ “Everything’s fine. I just missed talking to you.”

 _Muffled words._ “I missed you too, Dean. I’m about to go out with Ansem though, so I can call you later, when I get home?”

“Yeah sure, that’s fine.”

“What time is too late?”

 _Pause._ “It’s never too late for you to call, Sammy.”

 _Pause_. Grin. “I’ll call you later, Dean.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Be safe.”

 _Pause. Frown_. “I will.”

  


*

 

  
  


  
*

  


“H’lo?”

“Dean? Damn it, I knew I’d wake you up.”

“Sammy? It’s fine, I had the phone in here anyway. I didn’t...” _yawn_ “...mean to fall asleep.”

“Do you want me to let you go?”

“No.”

“Um.” _Pause._ “Okay. What did you want to talk about when you called before?”

“Nothing in particular.” _Rustle._ “I just...you know, missed talking to you.”

 _Creaking. Rustle_. “I missed it too. Sorry, hang on. Can’t get changed and talk on the phone at the same time.” _Muffled rustling_. “Hi.”

 _Smile_. “Hi.”

“So, my art show is in like...a week. Eight days, tomorrow.” _Sigh._ “I have ten pieces done out of fifteen. This blows.”

 _Low laugh_. “Finally figured out your subjects?”

“Most of them. I even threw some still lifes and landscapes for variety.”

“Well, you know what they say?”

 _Amused._ “What’s that?”

“Spice is the variety of life.”

 _Pause._

“What?”

“What what?”

“I think you mean variety is the spice of life.”

“That’s what I said.”

 _Laughter._

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever wish, nah, never mind.”

“Hey, tell me.”

“Ever wish that you were different?”

 _Pause_. “Not really, no.”

 _Long sigh_. “I do, all the time.”

“You okay, Sammy?”

“No, Dean, I’m really not.”

 _Pause_. “Wanna talk about it?”

 _Rustling._ “Nah. I’ll be okay. Thanks for talking to me this late, though.”

 _Low laugh._ “It’s later for you than for me.”

 _Shiver._ “Maybe so, but you were already asleep.”

“I’ll always come when you call.”

 _Long sigh._ “What’d I do to deserve a friend like you, Dean?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. Maybe you’re just lucky.”

 _Grunt._ “Guess so.”

 _Yawn._ “You okay to sleep now, Sammy?”

“Uh huh.” _Rustle. Sigh_. “G’night, Dean.”

“Good night Sam.”

 _Click.  
_  
 _Grunt. Twist. Jerk. Release. Despair._

 

  


*

 

  
  


*

  


“Sam, before you go tonight...I have a little homework for you.”

“If this is another ‘things I love’ list, I’m going to have to disrespectfully decline.”

 _Laugh_. “No, Sam. But I’m glad to know you hold my help in such high regard.”

 _Rolls eyes._ “What do you want me to, oh Master Zak Webb, therapist of all?”

“Cheeky. I want you to tell Dean how you feel.”

 _Pale_. “I can’t.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try, Sam.”

“I can’t. I’ll see you next week.”  
 _  
Slam._

 __

  


*

  


*

  


“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Hastings, can I talk to Sam?”

 _Smile_. “Dean. It’s nice to hear from you. Sam’s upstairs, let me get him.”

 _Running footsteps. Clatter_. “Dean!”

“Hi Sammy.” _Grin._ “I got your picture.”

 _Blush_. “I’m doing the I Told You So dance in my head right now. Just so you know.”

 _Laughter._ “You grew up good, bro.”

“Whatever, jerk.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

 _Long pause._

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“I have something to tell you.”

 _Muffled voices. Clattering. Swears_. “Shit, Sam, sorry, Claudia just came in, she needs the phone, tell me later okay? Sorry, dude. Later.”

 _Click._

“...I’m gay.”

 

  


*

  


  


*

*

 

  
  


 *

  


*

  


  
  
*

*End

  



	5. Year Five

Someone Else's Story

Year Five

July 4th 1998 - May 10th 1999

*

  


  
*

  


“Have you told him yet, Sam?”

“No.” _Sheepish._ “I tried though.”

“You tried?” _Skeptical._

“I was about to, but he had to go, and hung up just before I said it.”

“I see. And are you going to try again?”

 _Uncomfortable._ “I don’t know. It was so hard the first time...and he didn’t even hear it.”

“Telling someone about a crush is never easy.”

 _Horrified_. “I wasn’t going to tell him about that! I was just going to tell him I was gay.”

“Why?”

“Because then if he hated me, at least it would be for the right reason. If nothing else, he’d be awkward but accepting and then we could...go from there.”

“I see you thought this through.”

“Not really. I did a lot of research. Gay teens in America, and all that. We’re a bit of a minority but there are places we can go.”

“And how does that effect you?”

 _Steady._ “I will never tell Dean I’m in love with him, Zak. I will keep it to myself, and I will keep it close to my heart. But I will never tell him.”

“That’s not a healthy response, Sam.”

“Maybe not. But it’s the only one I’ve got.”

  


*

  
  


  
*

  
“Hello?”

“Uh...? Hi, can I speak to Sam please?”

“Sure.” _Gum pop._ “Can I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Dean. Um, who’s this, can I ask?”

“Oh, my name’s Pam. I work with Sam.”

“At SAF?”

“Yah-huh.” _Gum pop._ “I’m a psychic.”

 _Skeptical._ “A psychic? And where’s Sam?”

“Shower. Look, Dean, not sure he’ll be up for talking when he gets out.”

 _Instantly worried._ “Why, what happened?”

“Sam and Ansem had it out.”

“They were in trouble?”

“Nah, Andy started the whole damn thing. Right in the middle of work, even. Threatened Sam for stealing Ansem’s attention.”

“They have been spending a lot of time together, haven’t they?”

 _Grin._ “You askin’ or tellin’?”

“Asking. So, is Sam okay?”

“Bloody nose. Fat lip. Little things.”

“If Andy started it, why did Sam and Ansem fight it out?”

“Ansem said a few things she shouldn’t have” _Muffled noises._ “Sam, God, you look terrible. Shit, Anse, that shiner is ruthless.”

“Hey is that Sam?”

 _Clatter._ “Hey Dean. Can’t really talk now. I’ll call you later, bye.”

 _Click._

 _Quietly._ “Why are you avoiding me?”

*

  


  
*

  
 _Panting. Grinning._ “Jesus, Sam. Way to convince me that you weren’t choosing Ansem over me.”

 _Snort. Thumping._ “That was kind of the point, Andy.”

“Can I ask you a question, Sambo?”

 _Grin._ “You just did, but feel free to ask another.”

 _Rolled eyes._ “When are you going to tell your Dean that you’re in love with him?”

 _Smile fades_. “I just fucked your brain out your ears and that’s the question you ask me?”

“Aw, Sam...” _Tugging, rustling_. “C’mere, moron.”

 _Pause.  
_  
“The answer is never.” _Careful, quiet._ “Never.”

“Sam...”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just fade out of his life. I’m good at that.”

“Sam.”

“Andy, shut up and kiss me.”

*

  


  
*

 

  
“Hi, you’ve reached the Hastings, neither Cindy, Kyle and Sam can answer the phone right now, but if you leave your name, your number and short message we’ll get back to you just as soon as we can. Oh! And don’t forget to wait for the beep, have a nice day and thanks for calling!”

 _Beep._

“Sam? Dean. Call me, please. Come on, dude, what did I do? Sammy please.”

 _Beep._

“Sammy, it’s me. Please. Just call me.”

 _Beep._

“Hey Sam, it’s Claudia. Could you call Dean? He’s about ready to kill himself he’s so worried about you.” Sigh. “Come on, Sam...at least call me okay?”  
 _  
Beep._

“Fuck you, Sam. It’s been six months! Jesus, if I had the issue here, I’d have at least told you. Damn it!”  
 ** _  
_** _Beep._ **  
**  


*

  


*

*

DIVINE DESTRUCTION  
“Found in the Eden Garden”

SIDE A  
1\. Sweet Heresy  
2\. Nothing but a Shadow  
3\. Smoke and Mirrors  
4\. Red Reflection

SIDE B  
1\. Indigo  
2\. Void  
3\. Empty the Sky  
4\. For Those Left Behind  
5\. Forsaken

*

  


“So Sam, how goes the Dean thing?”

 _Sigh_. “Not good, Zak. Not good at all.”

“You told him and he rejected you?”

“No. I stopped being friends with him entirely.”

 _Wince._ “Sam. Remind me what I said about healthy responses.”

“I know. I know. I just...I got scared.”

“Let me make this easy.” _Picks up phone._ “Dean?”

“ _ZAK_!”

“Hi Dean, my name is Zak Webb. I’m Sam’s therapist. Did he tell you about me?”

 _Muffled response._

“Oh, well, if glares could kill, I’d be a smoking pile of ash.”

 _Muffled response._

“Put you on speaker? Sure I can do that. Hold on.” _Beeping._ “Go ahead, Dean.”

“Sammy? Sammy, look you don’t have to say anything, I just...man, I miss you. I don’t have any other best friends, Sam. Who else am I going to turn to when my sisters get bad, huh? And I know that things are tough, bro. And seriously, half the time? I don’t want to be friends with me either.” _Small laugh._ “I miss you, Sam. Say something, please.”

 _Choked._ “Dean.”

 _Relief._ “Sammy.”

  


  
*

  
  


*

  


*

  


  
*

 

*

*

*

*

  
*

 

  


 _*  
_

  


 _Door bell._

 _Door opens._

“Hi, can I help you?”

 _Smile._ “Hi, Mrs. Hastings. I’m Dean.”

“D-You’re Dean? Wow, finally I can put a face to the voice. Sam’s upstairs, come on in.”

 _Clattering._

“Hey mom, Ava needs a ride to the mall so I’m going to pick her up and–holy shit, Dean!”

 _Grin._ “Hi Sam. Uh, surprise?”

“I didn’t think you’d be here for like, a week!”

“I took the train.”

“Holy shit! I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I heard something about a mall?” _Grin._

“Oh my god, get in my car right now!” _Pause_. “We’ll be back mom.”

 _Laughs_. “I’ll make up the couch, Dean.”

“Thanks Mrs. Hastings.”

 _Door closes._

“Dean, I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You already said that, Sammy.”

“Well I’m saying it again!” _Laughs._ “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

“Yeah well...” _Sheepish._ “I couldn’t not, you know? So where’s my hug?”

“Right here!”

 _Embrace._

  


*

  
  


*

*

  


“So, Sam. This last week, Dean came up and slept on your couch. How’d that go?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. I mean, Ansem was pretty pissed.”

“Why was Ansem pissed? What about Andy?”  
 _  
Sigh._ “No, Andy figured out that I fell in love with Dean so he was pretty understanding about the whole thing. Ansem was pissed because I wouldn’t fuck around with him ‘cause Dean was there.”

“Did it become a problem?”

“Almost. Ansem wanted to out me. He kept crowding me, and molesting me. You know, like,” _blush_ “trying to turn me on and leaving me hanging when Dean was about to come back into the room.”

 _Wryly._ “And this is the boy you’ve chosen?”

“He’s a stand in, and he knows it.”

 _Pause._ “Did Dean like Ansem?”

 _Laugh._ “Not even a little bit.”

“No?”

“Nope. He kept trying to uninvite ‘Sem and make him angry. He–it was nice to be fought over.”

“But Dean is still straight.”

 _Quietly._ “He hit on Ava and Jo the whole week.”

“So, yes.”

“Yes.”

“Sam. I mean it. Tell Dean.”

“I _can’_ t.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“Yeah. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  


  
*

  


*

  
*End


	6. Year Six

**Someone Else's Story**

  
  


Year Six

June 3rd 1999 - April 1st 2000

*

  


*

  


“Hello?”

 _Clears throat._ “Hi, Sam.”

 _Surprise._ “Dean. Hi.”

“So, we haven’t talked in a while.”

“Y-yeah. We, we really haven’t.”  
 _  
Pause._

“Okay, so dude. If you being...you know...is all that was bothering you, I only have one thing to say.”

 _Quiet._ “Yeah?”

“What, like I didn’t know?” _Smiling._

“Y–you already knew?”

“Dude. You only ever talked about Andy and Ansem and never about girls. So look, whatever, okay? I’ll pretend you’re talking about women, and it’ll all be fine.”

 _Pause._ “So you don’t...hate me?”

“Dude, I’m just relieved you’re not dying or some shit like that. That would way suck.”

“Yeah-yeah, it would.”

“Please, bitch. Give me some credit. You're gay, okay but don’t expect me to be butt buddies with you.”  
 _  
Laughter._ “Butt buddies? I seriously can _not_ believe you just said that.”

“I seriously just did, so get over it bitch!”

“Jerk.” _Grinning._ “So. Girls. You want to talk about them?”

“No way, dude. We all know girls will like you more than me.”

“So just keep me away from your girlfriends.”

 _Laughter._ “Will do, Sammy.

 

  


*

 

  


  
*

“So, Sam. This is our last session, I’ve sent your file over to a colleague of mine at Stanford, so you can continue your sessions there.”

 _Smiling._ “You know, when we started talking, Zak, I was really...really, really sure that I was going to hate you.”

“I’ve just one of those faces, my boy.” _Laughing._ “Her name is Riesel Anderson, and she’s very excited to meet you.”

“Riesel? That’s an interesting name.” _Pondering_. “So Dean...he called me, after I uh, you know, told him I was gay.”  
 _  
Smiles._ “I do hate to sound like a dick, Sam, but I believe the best response I could possibly come up with is Told You So.”

 _Rolls eyes_. “Whatever, Zak. He and I talked and things are good.”

“So you know what your next course of action is then? Telling him you’re in love with him.”

 _Pulls a face._ “I’ll skip that, thanks.”

“I was right before, you know.”

“Yeah, and its much easier to accept that your best friend’s a fag rather than your best friend’s a fag and in love with you.” _Harsh laugh_. “I’ll keep things the way they are, thanks much.”

 _Warmly._ “You’ll figure it out Sam.” _Pause_. “You always do.”

“Thanks Zak. I’ll miss you. Do you want me to hate on this Riesel for a few weeks in solidarity?”  
 _  
Laughs._ “Nah, she’ll be good for you. And she’s a good friend. So be nice, young man.”

“I will, Dr. Webb. Thanks.”  
 _  
Door closes._

 _Pause._

 _Phone rings.  
_  
“This is Zachariah.” _Pause._ “Yes, he’ll be leaving in a few days. As soon as he gets settled he’ll be making an appointment.” _Pause._ “That won’t be a problem, sir. He’s very pliant. Has been after years of my influence. You’ll get what you want.” _Pause._ “Riesel, sir. Riesel Anderson.” Pause. “Female, sir. It was the best I could do on short notice.” _Pause._ “Yes, Uriel. I understand.”

 _Clicks._

 _Quietly._ “What have I done? What have I _done_?”

*

 

*

 _Door bell rings._

 _Door opens._

 _Squeal_. “SAM! Holy Shit, Sam you’re here, and I thought I would never get to meet you in person and holy shit, you drove here, oh my god, your car is so cool, and Dean’s at work so I’ll give you–are you okay?”

 _Weakly._ “Hi, Claudia. And no. Not really.”

“Wow, you look terrible. Sorry, that was tactless. Here, got a pen, I’ll give you the address to Dean’s work.”

 _Relief._ “Thanks, Claud.”

“You best be coming home with him though, Mr. Hastings. Everyone else is going to want to meet you.”

 _Quietly._ “Okay. Thanks.”

*

“Hi, Welcome to Mountain Top Records, anything I -Sammy!”

 _Waves_. “Hi, Dean.”

“Are you ok–ahem. Hey Walter, I’m going to take my break, okay?”

 _Door opens. Hustling._

“Dean, I’m fine. I just...it’s been a rough...I’m going to coll...there was this guy...” _Grunts. Sighs._ “Have you heard of Matthew Shepard?”

 _Shakes head._ “Should I have?”

“I can’t imagine so. He’s a murder victim from Laramie, Wyoming.” _Quiet_. “You don’t hate me right? I mean, I know we’ve been talking more, but like, you don’t want to...kill me...for being...what I am.”

“Shit, Sam. Did someone threaten you?”

“No, and answer my question please.”

 _Quietly._ “No, Sammy. I don’t understand it, but I don’t hate you for it. Now, Jesus, would you just tell me what’s going on?”

“There was...it was on the news. This guy, little older than you. He was murdered, in...in Laramie, Wyoming. It was...they called it a hate crime. They beat him to death, so badly that he died...tied to a fence in some back field.” _Breathing hitches_. “I didn’t know him, but when they caught, caught the guys who did it, they said it was because he was a fag. Dean, it was so bad, they didn’t even release pictures.”

“Oh shit, Sam.” _Rough embrace._ “No one’s threatened you, though, right?”

 _Shakes head_. “No. But so many people, in, in town, they’re acting like this poor guy deserved it. I was leaving in a week to go to Stanford, so I just left early. Came here instead.”

“Shit, I’m glad you did. Jesus, dude.” _Another hug_. “Look, why don’t you hang around here. Lucky and the others will be around later. You can sit with them, and when my shift is over, you can give me a ride home.”

 _Blinks._ “So you just want me for the ride?” _Deadpan._

“What?! Dude, no!”

 _Laughter._  


*

 

  


*

  
“Hi, is this Riesel Anderson?” _Bites lip_. “My name is Samuel W-Hastings, my former therapist Zak Webb, he referred me to you?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Hastings. I have your referral right here. Dr. Webb said that you were showing great progress in your years of therapy with him, yes?”

“Y-Yeah, I guess so. I mean, things got better.”

 _Low laughter._ “People rarely get _better_ Mr. Hastings. I’m looking forward to seeing you. When will you be in Palo Alto?”

“Um, I left a little earlier than expected. I’ve been staying with a friend in Colorado, so I’ll be here for four more days, before heading to California on my own.”

“So that would be...Tuesday?”

“Yeah. Classes start on, I think the 7th, so I figured I’d go in on the 9th, which is a Friday, which would give me time to settle in to Dorm and start getting books and stuff.”

“That sounds perfect, Mr. Hastings. Friday the 9th, at 4:00PM, do you think?”

“That’s great, Dr. Anderson. I’ll see you then.”

 _Clicks._

“I don’t think I’m going to like her as much as I liked Zak...” _Whispering.  
_  


*

  


  


*

  


“Okay. Sam. Come sit with me.”

“What’s up, Claud?”

 _Somberly._ “I have a very important question to ask you.”

 _Confused._ “Uh, okay?”

“Are you in love with my brother?”

 _Pale._ “No! God, Claudia what the hell kind of question is that?!”

 _Pause_. _Skeptical._ “You’re lying.”

 _Crumpling_. “Claudia, you cannot tell him. You just _can’t._ I’ve managed to keep it a secret this long but I can’t lose him.”

“Whoa, hey, Sam.” _Quick hug._ “I’m not going to tell him. Calm down.”

“Fuck, Claudia. He can’t know. He simply can’t.”

 _Dryly._ “Considering as he’s straight...I get it.” _Smiles._ “Look, he’ll never figure it out until it smacks him in the face, so your secret is safe with me. But Sam? I think you should just tell him.”

 _Snorts._ “God, that’s even worse. My therapist, you, everyone wants me to just tell Dean, but Claudia, it would kill me. It would kill our friendship, and that would kill me.”

“Give him some credit, please.”

 _Sighs._ “He handled that I was gay pretty well. All things considered. But Claudia, he already told me that he doesn’t want me to...hit on him, or even talk about this stuff with him. Telling him, hi, PS, I’m in love with you...that wouldn’t go over very well.”

“I think you’d be surprised.”

“Claudia...do you know something I don’t?”

“No, not yet.”

“Not yet, how does that make any sense?”

“Go talk to him, Sam. You’ll be fine.”

  


*

*

  


“So you really have to go today?”

 _Smiling._ “Dean...”

“Can’t you go tomorrow?” _Whining._

“Not really. It’s a three day drive from here to Palo Alto and I can’t afford to waste time, I need to get into my dorm, unpack and make an appointment on Friday.”

 _Pouts._ “That Dr. Anderson chick? Aren’t you like, cured?”

 _Bitter._ “Suicidal people are never _cured_. They can only be okay for a little while.”

“Shit, Sammy. I hate it when you say that out loud.” _Rough hug_.

“Look, I’ll call you when I get there, okay? That way you’ll have my dorm number.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

 _Hesitant._ “Not like my parents offered. Or, you know. Andy. Ansem. Ava. Pam. None of them wanted to come. They’re all staying back in the Pitt. They’re all a little annoyed with me for wanting out.”

 _Indignant._ “Well, then they’re idjits.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a what?” Laughing. “A...what?”

“An idjit! It’s like an idiot only sounds better. I dunno where I heard it before.”

 _Grinning._ “Ah. So instead of sounding mean, you just sound pretentious.”

 _Swats_. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” _Clears throat._ “No, Dean. You don’t have to come with me.”

“You didn’t actually answer my question, Sammy. I know I don’t have to come with you but do you want me to? I could take a few days off work, we can go together, I can take the bus back.”

 _Slow sigh._ “No, Dean. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 _Confused._ “Why?”

“Dean. I’m gay. I’m gay and it’s 1999 and if you come to Palo Alto with me, everyone will think...” _Trails off._ “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Dude.” _Solemn._ “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah. I know. But...that’s all you are.” _Quick smile._ “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Sam, damn it!”

 _Door closes._

 _Car starts._

 _“FUCK!”_

  


*

  


  
 

  
  


  


  


  


*

  


“Claudia?” _Panting. Hitching breaths._ “Claudia? I need Dean.”

“Sam? Are you okay?”

“Just...Just, Dean. Please?”

“Yeah. Yeah, hold on.”

 _Clicks._

“Sammy? Sam, what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. I just...I needed to talk to someone.”

“You don’t sound so good, man. What’s going on?”

“Things are really...really hard here. I mean the work isn’t that bad...but...” _breaths hitching_ “I can’t...I had my first appointment with Dr. Anderson last night.”

“Dude.”

“Y-Yeah. She and I...didn’t work out so well. She’s awful Dean.”

“So what are you going to do, man?”

“Call Zak, I think. Let him know what’s going on. I just...” _Slow breath out_. “I needed to...Dean, you have no idea...”

“Hey, hey, Sammy. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I don’t think so Dean, things are all different now.” _Soft chuckle._ “I should go. Sorry for freaking you out. I haven’t had a panic attack in years.”

“Call me before one happens again, okay? We’ll head it off.”

 _Smiles._ “I will. Thank you, Dean.”

“Forget about it.”

 _Clicks._

  


*

  


*

  


  
“Good morning, Mr. Hastings. How was your week? Any progress on what we talked about last Friday?”

 _Flat look._ “You mean when you informed me that it was high time to get over this phase of being gay?”

“It’s plain to see, Mr. Hastings, that in your struggle to find role models in your formative years, you latched onto Dean, someone who treated you as a normal person without regard to your intelligence, and sometimes those connections can be unhealthy. I don’t want to be one of those people who tells you that being gay is a mindset, but truly, Mr. Hastings, things are not as bad as you’re making them out to be.”

“No, it only feels like my entire world is ending.”

  


 _Smiles._ “Sam, can I call you Sam? Maybe the most healthy thing for you to do would be to cut off ties with Dean immediately?”

  


  
“No.”

 _Surprised_. “Well. That was...definite. Can I ask why?”

“I’m adopted, Dr. Anderson. I have no sisters or brothers. Everyone in my town has either known each other since birth or went to school with each other since everyone was in diapers. I worked and practically lived at an Artist store, and everything I ever did was to move past the label of being gay. The only person who helped me do that...is Dean. And you’re telling me I have to cut off all ties with him because I was unfortunate enough to fall in love with my best friend?” _Scoffs_. “Romance movies are made of people who fall in love with their best friends. I just happen to be male. So, no thank you. I will not be taking that advice, and I will be calling Dr. Webb to inform him of how terribly I’ve been treated here. Thank you, Dr. Anderson. For your overly expensive time.”

 _Door closes._

 __

  


*

  


  
“Excuse me? Mr. Hastings?”

 _Pause._ “Look, I’ve just had a really shitty time of it and I’d like to go home now.”

“Sorry. I’m Dr. Novak.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve only seen you twice, here. But if you ever need to talk...I’m here.” _Small smile._ “I also work on Campus, I’m the LGTB Activist Coordinator.”

“LGTB?”

“Lesbian-Gay-Transgendered-Bisexual.”

“How...did you know I was gay?”

 _Head tilt._ “I have very good ears.” _Offers hand._ “Here’s my card. Call me anytime.”

 _Small smile._ “Thanks, I will.”

  


*

*

  


 _Breathless._ “Hello?”

“Sam?”

“Oh, shit. Hi, Jim. Sorry, just came in from a run, thought I was going to miss the phone.”

“Should I call back?”

“No, you’re fine. Hang on, let me get some water so I don’t sound like I’m dying.”

 _Pause._

“Sam?”

“Here.”

“The other members of our group were wondering if maybe we could convince you to do an art show.”

“Wait, seriously? They do realize I’m a law student and not an art major right?”

“I...don’t believe they care.”

“Oh. Then. Yes. Sure. What medium?”

“Any. And since it’ll be at the center of our sort of life, they want anything explicit or homosexual that you have. Some of the girls are a little more interested in this part of your art than they should be.”

 _Laughter._ “Of course. I’ll do it. Just let me know when, where, and how many pieces to do.”

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“How’s Dean?”

 _Laughs_. “Good _bye,_ Jimmy.”

  


*

 

  


*

  


“Yes, this is the Residence of Charleston, David and Crowley.”

“Um. You must be Alastair.”

 _Low chuckle_. “Yes, may I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“This is Sam. Hastings. I’m phoning for Dean.”

 _Faint surprise._ “Sam? Ahh...Sam. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. So you’re the voice that belongs to the name he called.”

 _Confusion_. “Um, what?”

“Nothing, my dearest. Let me get Dean for you.”

 _Rustling, muffled voices._

“Sam!” _Pause._ “I told you he was annoying.”

“He seemed nice, actually.” _Absently._ “And he sounds kind of hot, if you want my opinion.”

“Dude!”

 _Laughs._ “What? English accents are hot. It’s just the truth.”

“Jesus, Sammy. Ever heard of TMI? Ugh. So hanging up on you now.”

“Hey, before you go.”

“If this is another thing about Crowley being hot, I’m still hanging up on you.”

 _Snort._ “No! Just, sorry I missed your birthday man.”

“Dude, you’re like a month too late.”

“Shut up. You know how hard Law school is? Especially when you’re 19? Suck it.”

 _Blush_. “ _Good-bye_ Sam.”

“Night, Dean.”

 _Click._

 _  
_

  


*

  
  


*End


	7. Year Seven

**Someone Else's Story**

  


Year Seven

November 29th 2000 - November 1st 2001

  


*

*

  
*

  


_Phone rings._

“Yeah?”

“Is that anyway to answer the phone, Sammy?”

 _Smiling._ “Dean!”

“So, I have two things, real quick. The first is this, do you have a cell phone yet?”

“Yet? Like you have one already?”

“Yup! 752-555-7241. Write it down and don’t lose it!”

“Okay, okay...” _scribbles._ “So what was the second thing?”

 _Sudden quiet._ “Look, I have something to tell you okay? It’s not... you won’t like it.”

 _Frowning_. “Um. You’re not like, going to tell me that you hate me?”

“No!”

“That you’re dying?”

“No.”

“That you’re moving to Timbuktu?”

“Uh, no.”

“Okay then.” _Grinning_. “So the odds that whatever you have to say will incur my wrath is relatively slim.”

 _Dryly._ “It’s not your wrath I’m worried about.”

 _Snorts_. “Queen, _please_.”

 _Laughter._

“Um. It’s just that...you know that I...you know what? Never mind. I got to run, talk to you later, text me when you get that cell phone. Bye, Sammy.”

 _Click._

 _Baffled._ “What the hell was that about?”

  


*

  


  
*

  


_Phone rings._

“Hello?”

“Sam! Thank God, I wasn’t sure you were going to pick up the phone.”

“Um, why not? Dean? Is everything okay?”

“Haven’t you been watching the news?”

“No...today I had no class so I’ve been studying for my Calculus Exam. Why?”

“There’s been a terrorist attack.”

 _Startles._ “What? Where?”

“On the twin towers, you know, in New York City? And the pentagon and there might have been a third one but it failed. There’s like, a super warning on TV for big places. Like...universities.”

“Shit, I didn’t have my TV on, and no one came to tell me.”

“Look, check in with me every hour okay? Because if they have to evacuate you, you come here. You got that, Sammy?”

“Yeah, I got it.” _Pause._ “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Everyone is freaking out though. I mean, shit, a terrorist attack.”

“How the hell did it happen?”

“From what I can tell from the news, a plane flew into one of the twin towers and the pentagon. Another one went down in Pennsylvania. Apparently the passengers took back that plane. They’re evacuating and shit Sam, people are _jumping_ off the towers, like that’s their only option.”

“Damn it...” _Quietly_ “Glad I didn’t decide to go to NYU after all...”

“Shut up Sam, don’t even joke!”

“I’m fine, Dean. I’ll call you in an hour okay?”

“Be safe.”

 _Click._

  


  
*

  
*

*

  


“So how are things, Samuel?”

“Oh for, it’s _Sam_ , for the millionth time, Jim. You manage to remember when your _c_ _ock_ is up my _ass_ but not on the phone.”

 _Clears throat._ “Yes, well... things are a little less formal then.”

“You’re never formal.”

“And you’re embarrassing me, so stop.”

 _Grins._ “Sorry, Jim. What’s up?”

“I wanted you to know, I’m going out of state soon. I have to make a few trips before heading to Detroit.”

 _Frowns_. “How long will you be gone?”

“About two weeks, I think. Less if everything goes well.”

“Is this the conference thing that you were telling me about last week?”

“Yes.”

 _Long sigh._ “I’m going to miss you. Who else am I going to call when things get rough?”

 _Amused._ “Dean, maybe?”

“Would you stop pushing that please?” _Grumble._ “I could always call Zak.”

“Zak?”

“Yeah, Zachariah Webb, my former therapist. I haven’t talked to him much, he was really disappointed in Dr. Anderson, and took care of that whole thing for me.”

“Where did you meet this doctor?”

 _Pause_. “The Brien Center at Pittsfield on South St.”

“Huh. Zak. That’s very interesting.” _Short pause_. “Okay, Short Time, I’ll call you when I get to Dallas. It’s my first stop.”

“I’m not short, Jim!”

“Say hi to Dean for me.”

 _Click._

  


  
*

*

  


_413-555-9281: dean! Its sam. Got the phone.  
Dean: Welcome to the modern age.  
Sammy: ha ha very funny  
Dean: so whats up? U in class?  
Sammy: yes.  
Dean: u rebel u  
Sammy: im way in back.  
Dean: cause ur a fukin giant  
Sammy: nooo so I can text u  
Dean: didnt know u cared sunshine  
Sammy: moron  
Dean: what class?  
Sammy: ethics of law in modern history  
Dean: snore  
Sammy: pretty much  
Dean: when u get out?  
Sammy: 1 hr  
Dean: gag  
Sammy: yup  
Dean: call me when ur out?  
Sammy: kk_

  


  
*

*

 

  


_Phone rings._

“Hey Sammy.”

 _Crunches._ “Hey Dean.”

“Are you eating?”

“Yeah. It’s lunch time.”

“Dude, it’s like, 2.”

“Dude, I’m like, 2 hours behind you.”

 _Grumbles_. “You’re an ass.”

“So what’s up?”

“Nothing, what do you mean what’s up?”

“Uh, Dean, you told me to call you.”

“Oh. Right. I don’t know, I just miss you, I guess.”

“You should come up here for my birthday.”

“That’s in a week...Maybe Walter would give me the days off...”

“You should find out and come celebrate with me. I’m going to be twenty, you know.”

“I know, which makes me 24 so shut it.”

“Okay, okay old man.”

“Sammy, I will hang up this phone.”

“And be deprived of my voice and stunning personality?”

“Good _bye_ Sammy.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“You never told me what you wanted.”

“Um. Nothing. Just wanted to say hi.”

 _Confused_. “Okay. Don’t tell me then.”

 _Groans._ “Aw, Sam, come on. Don’t be mad.”

“Not mad, just confused.” _Softly._ “Is it bad? Is that why you don’t want to tell me?”

“No Sam...it’s not bad. I just...it’s hard okay? I’ll work up to it.”

 _Pause._

“Okay. I’ll let you go then. Text me later?”

 _Smiles._ “Yeah, Sammy. I will.”

 _Click._

“Shit, Sam. I think I love you.”

  


  
*

  


*

  


“This is Dr. Webb.”

“Hey Zak, it’s Sam.”

Surprised. “Sam, I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you ever again after what happened with Riesel. I had no idea she felt that way, and I really can’t apologize enough.”

“Meh, whatever. I got over it.” _Pause_. “I’m calling because I really need someone to talk to.”

 _A little awed._ “And you chose me?”

“Well who else would I choose?”

“Dean?”

 _Laughs._ “You’re the second person who’s said that and funny but the idiot is totally avoiding me because there’s something he wants to tell me and won’t.”

“Is it serious?”

“Fuck if I know.”

 _Contemplating._ “So what could be bad enough that he can’t even tell you?”

“Don’t know. I asked if he was dying, he said no. I asked if he changed his mind about hating me, he said no. I asked if he was going some place far away and he said no. I’m at a loss, and the guy I’ve been talking to in Dr. Anderson’s stead had to go on a trip for 2 weeks.”

“Guy you’ve been talking to?”

“Yes. His name is Jim Novak.”

 _Sharp inhale_. “Novak?”

“Do you know him?”

“I’ve heard of him. One of the brothers in arms...” _clears throat_. “You picked a good one Sam. Stick with him.”

 _Confused_. “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

“It’s nothing, Sam. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I wasn’t, for a while. I...can I tell you something, even though you’re not my therapist anymore?”

 _Softly._ “Of course you can, Sam.”

“I tried to kill myself, last year. I had already made the cuts in my right arm, you know? Then I freaked out, called Dean. Talking to him helped, and I managed to patch myself up and now I’ve got scars, but you know...I might have actually done it, if I hadn’t called Dean that night.” _Snorts._ “I got blood all over my sketch pad, I had to start another.”

“Oh Sam. I’m so sorry.”

 _Soft laugh._ “Don’t be sorry Zak, it wasn’t like it was your intention.”

“No...not mine.” _Pause_. “How are you now? Does Dean know?”

“I’m okay. Dealing. Dean doesn’t know. Dean will never know if I have anything to say about it. I just...Jim doesn’t get it, not really. It’s almost like he’s an automaton, you know?”

 _Laughs_. “Yes, I know.”

“Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’m okay. And to say thanks. Because, without you, I would never have...I wouldn’t be me today.”

“I...thank _you_ Sam.”

 _Clicks._

“...For putting things in perspective for me.”

  


  
*

  


  
*

  


“Son of a _bitch_! Where the hell _are_ they?!”

 _Phone ring_ _s._

“Yeah, what?”

“Is that any way to talk to someone you haven’t seen in a few days?”

“Jim! You might know where it is.”

“Where what is?”

“Where the pages for the LGBT Newspaper are? The ones I did for August’s issue? I had my copy on my desk before you left last, but then I don’t know, I had notes all over the place, but I can’t find them and one of the group wants a copy.”

“The pages you did...had the picture you painted of your arm, and Dean and the boy with the jeans? The one where you said you loved your best friend?”

“Jim! You were there for most of those drawing sessions!”

“Oh those...”

 _Pause_. “I don’t like that tone, Jim.”

“I sent them to Dean.”

“ _What_?!”

 _Dryly_. “And the one whose _cock_ is up your _ass_ , I feel that it’s my duty to send the man whose cock _should_ be up your ass the pages that would make that happen. Good luck, Samuel. I wish you well. I’ll figure this out sooner or later.”

“Figure what out?”

“How to wake you up.”

“What?”

“Good bye, Samuel.”  
 _  
Click._

  


*

  
*

  


_Phone rings._

“...Hello?”

“Hey Sammy. Can we talk about something for a second?”

 _Quietly._ “Sure, Dean. What did you want to talk about?”

“How about the fact that you’re in love with me?”

  


  
*End

TBC: 

Year Eight

January 24th 2002 - December 24th 2003


	8. Year Eight

 

  


**Year Eight**

January 24th 2002 - December 24th 2002

*

 

  


*

  


  


*

  


Dean: which exit?  
Sammy: page mill rd  
Dean: kk see you in a bit  
Sammy: will be here  
Dean: missing the snow  
Sammy: NOT MISSING SNOW  
Dean: ??  
Sammy: Sorry  
Dean: capslock accident?  
Sammy: new phone = confusing  
Dean: be there soon  
Sammy: kk

 _Ten Minutes Later_

Dean: oops  
Sammy: Oops??  
Dean: missed exit  
Sammy: take the next 1 then. Sand hill rd  
Dean: sorry am idiot  
Sammy: idjit  
Dean: that too  
Sammy: stop texting and driving  
Dean: take two be there soon

 _Twenty Minutes Later_

Dean: left or right at Wisteria?  
Dean: hurry  
Sam: left  
Dean: kk

 _Ten Minutes Later_

Dean: which house?  
Sammy: the blue one  
Dean: there is no blue one  
Sammy: what??  
Dean: shit wrong road  
Sammy: on Lakehurst?  
Dean: yeah which way next?  
Sammy: which direction you in?  
Dean: facing west  
Sammy: take a right  
Sammy: at light, take left  
Dean: what light?  
Sammy: your other right dean!!!  
Dean: shit

  


  
*

  
*

 _Ten Minutes Later_

Dean: I hate this damn city  
Sammy: where are you?  
Dean: the gas station on Wisteria and Union  
Sammy: stay. Be there in five.  
Dean: walking or driving  
Sammy: walking  
Dean: sorry  
Sammy: its fine hold on  
Dean: to what?  
Sammy: perv  
Dean: you love it  
Sammy: if youre good ill give you a bj in car cant text and walk  
Dean: um  
Sammy: nvm  
Dean: promise?  
Sammy: WHAT  
Dean: see you in a minute  
Sammy: Dean what? You better explain that!  
Sammy: Dean?  
Sammy: DEAN.  
Sammy: fuck you asshole be there in a sec

*

  
*

“So.”

 _Slow sigh_. “So what, Dean?”

“Are...we going to talk about this?”

 _Pointedly._ “You hate talking.”

“I’ll make an exception.”

 _Long silence._

“Christ, Sammy. Were you ever going to tell me?”

“No.”

“You really weren’t? You were just going to be miserable for the rest of...forever? Because, man, that just sounds...”

 _Biting_. “Well, fuck Dean! What exactly am I supposed to say? I could quote my last therapist, by saying I made an unhealthy attachment to you because you’re the only person outside my parents - who aren’t even mine! - to show me any real degree of kindness. I could say that I’m a walking cliche, and that I followed the plot line of every romantic comedy known to man. I could say that I’m a stereotype, a gay man falling for a straight man. I could even say that I’m the last person on earth who deserves something good, which is why I tried to kill myself! But god damn it, Dean, I was not going to open myself up to even more ridicule.”  
 _  
Slow. Shocked._ “You...tried to kill yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Where? When? How? What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

 _Dryly._ “I did, technically. Though at the time, I told you I was having a panic attack.”

 _Pause._

“You called me that day.”

“I did, yes.” _Holds out arm_. “I was a little too late for the pre-suicidal thoughts freak out, but you came in at the top of the mid-action freak out. Got myself to stop bleeding on the phone with you and called a friend to come get me and bring me to the hospital.” _Wry smile._ “Brady chewed my ass up one way and down the other when he got here.”

“Well there’s the how and the when. How about the why?”

 _Soft snort._ “Dr. Anderson. I won’t go into what she said, but it was...pretty bad. I didn’t know what else to do. It seemed like the only option at the time. Then I started and I realized I was in too deep and I needed out.”

 _Slow sigh._ “Because you loved me?”

 _Dirty look_. “Don’t flatter yourself, Dean. I squared away the knowledge that you didn’t love me like I loved you a long time ago.”

“You never even gave me a chance, Sam.”

 _Exasperated_. “You didn’t want one!”

“When the hell did I say that?”

 _Bitter snort. “_ When you said that you didn’t care that I was gay so long as you didn’t have to hear about me talking about guys, and that I didn’t expect to, and I quote, be _butt buddies_ with you.”

 _Wince._ “Oh. That.”

“Yeah. That.”

“Well...that was before.” _Carefully_. “Yeah. Before. Sammy before you say anything else, do you promise not to hate me? God isn’t that familiar? Just...don’t hit me, okay?”

“Hate you? Hit you? Dean, what?”

“Just promise me, Sammy.”

 _Confused._ “Okay. I promise.”  
 _  
Steps in close_. “I’m holding you to that, Sammy.”

“Why what are you going to d–....” _Kiss._

*

  
  


*

  
  


“Dr. Webb.”

  
  


“Hey Zak.”

  
  


_Surprise._  “Sam? What’s wrong?”

  
  


_Faint chuckle._  “Nothing’s wrong, Zak.  In fact, everything’s right.”

  
  


“So then...why are you calling me?”

  
  


“To share in the good news.” _Pause. Rueful._ “You were right.”

  
  


“I was?”

  
  


“Yeah.  About telling Dean?  We...he...I...okay do you want the long or the short of it?”

  
  


“Short first, long after.”

  
  


“Dean and I are together.”

  
  


_Laughter_.  “Well, I’ll be damned, kid.  You did it.  You made it all this way.  Only took, what, eight years?”

  
  


_Primly_.  “Seven and a half.”

  
  


“Semantics, boy, semantics.  So.  Tell me everything.”

  
  


“Well... you know how I’ve been seeing Jim Novak for a while, well, he convinced me to write an article on being gay and falling in love and how things aren’t really that bad, because of, you know, trying to kill myself.  Now I have perspective...whatever, I didn’t really care why he wanted me to do it, I just needed to do it for me.  Does that make sense?”

  
  


“It makes perfect sense.”

  
  


“So I wrote about how Dean was the One for me, and yadda, so the paper gave me an extra copy, for my portfolio....and then I couldn’t find the pages.  Turns out, Jim lifted them from my desk, found Dean’s address and sent them to him!”

  
  


“How...human of him.”   _Considering._  “Looks like we’ve all changed some huh?”

  
  


“Yeah, I guess.  So then Dean calls me and is all ‘lets talk about the fact that you’re in love with me’ and thank God but my friend Brady walked in just then and I had to go so I completely got off on the conversation.  Except Dean wanted to come see me and after some seriously ridiculous directions, we managed to get him to my apartment.”

  
  


_Snorts_.  “Seems like you were pretty nervous.”

  
  


“God, was I ever.  Then Dean got super pissed at me because he didn’t know I tried to kill myself, though I think that he had suspicions because of the article.  Regardless, we managed to struggle through the conversation and then he asked me not to hit him and before I could ask why he was worried that I would, he kissed me.”

  
  


“So he made the first move?”

  
  


“Yeah, unbelievably.”

  
  


“What made him go and do that?”

  
  


“Apparently he got drunk and ended up fucking one of his room-mates, by name of Crowley.”

  
  


“ _Crowley_?!”

  
  


“Uh...do you know him?”

  
  


“No, no...just...who the hell names their kid after a demon in a Neil Gaiman book?”

  
  


“Or the Necronomicon.” _Amused._ “Anyway, apparently Dean realized he wasn’t as straight as he thought he was, and while Crowley was a nice substitute, once he found out that I’ve been in love with him since forever, we should just bite the bullet and get it over with.”

  
  


“Bite the bullet and get it over with? How romantic.”

  
  


_Grinning._  “It’ll do.”

  
  


“I’m glad things are working out for you, Sam.  I really am.”   _Smiles._  “I have an appointment in a bout ten minutes so I’ll have to let you go, but...you call me if you need anything okay?”

  
  


“Okay.  Thanks, Zak.”

  
  


_Click._

  
  


“Castiel? I need you.”

  
  


*

  
  


Dean: are u in class?

  


Sammy: yes.  y?

  


Dean: cause im not wearing anything right now

  


Sammy: !! Ur a dick

  


Dean: u want mine and u kno it

  


Sammy: in class dickhole

  


Dean: so u dont want me 2 dirty text u?

  


Sammy: in class?

  


Dean: just give in 

  


Sammy: I hate you.

  


Dean: kno what im thinkin about?

  


Sammy: no tell me

  


Dean: sucking u off

  


Sammy: I really hate you

  


Dean: srsly didnt know itd get me that hot

  


Dean: the 1st time we did it

  


Dean: u taste good

  


Dean: sammy?

  


Sammy: ur a dick

  


Dean: where r u?

  


Sammy: bathroom

  


Dean: u jerkin off?

  


Sammy: yes

  


Dean: call me

  


Sammy: phone sex in public bathroom?

  


Dean: live a little

  


Sammy: kk

  
  


*

  
  


  


  
*

  
  


_Phone rings._

  
  


_Groggy._  “Yeah?”

  
  


“Is that any way to talk to an old friend, Sammy-boy?”

  
  


“...Ansem?”

  
  


“The one and only.”

  
  


“Christ, what the hell time is it?”

  
  


“It’s eight in the morning.”

  
  


“Fuck, Ansem...I’m three hours behind you.  It’s five.”   _Yawns._  “What’s up, is everything okay?”

  
  


“I was wondering...want a house guest for a little while?” _Pensively._  “It’s just me though.  Andy’s...busy.”

  
  


_Sits up._  “Busy? Dude, you and Andy are pretty much inseparable. What’s going on?”

  
  


_Softly._  “Dad found out.”

  
  


Long pause.  “Son of a bitch.  Are you okay? Is Andy?”

  
  


“Y-Yeah.  We’re okay.  I mean, all dad did was scream at us.  But...he wants us to go get help, or we’ll never be able to come home again.” _Shaky breath_.  “Is it worth it to lie to him? Go get the help, fake it? Sam, fuck...I love him.”

  
  


“Oh Ansem.  Don’t lie.  God, I was with you two for years, remember? It’s not...I know, incest is wrong but, you two, you’re like...soul mates or something.  You’re more than welcome to come here, my couch is comfortable.”

  
  


“Couch?” _Faintly amused._ “Someone else sleeping in your bed now, Sambo?”

  
  


“Yeah, Dean moved in.”

  
  


“ _Dean?_ ”

  
  


“Shit, I have so much to tell you.”

  
  


*

  
  


  
  


  
  
  


*

  
  


Sammy: this class is boring

  


Dean: what r u learning?

  


Sammy: math

  


Dean: wait rly?

  


Sammy: yeah its a gen-ed

  


Dean: thought u liked math

  


Sammy: I do 

  


Sammy: its too easy

  


Dean: oh makes sense

  


Dean: need dirty txts?

  


Sammy: u hardly need my permission

  


Dean: ansem is sitting next 2 me

  


Sammy: dude srsly?

  


Dean: not sexy?

  


Sammy: not even a little

  


Dean: can u fuck me when u get back?

  


Sammy: jesus

  


Dean: was that a yes?

  


Dean: cause I prepared myself in shower

  


Dean: been thinkin bout it all day

  


Sammy: yes

  


Sammy: yes yes yes

  


Dean: dontcome

  


Sammy: wont

  


Dean: wish u were home

  


Sammy: I hate u

  


Dean: fuck hardon obvious in these pants

  


Sammy: desk in way of mine

  


Dean: shit ansem noticed

  


Dean: raincheck

  


Sammy: tell him he sucks

  


Dean: isnt that the prob?

  


Sammy: DUDE.

  


Sammy: no 3somes plz

  


Dean: agreed

  


Sammy: class over 

  


Dean: how much break?

  


Sammy: 15.

  


Dean: ur schedule sucks

  


Sammy: just on weds

  


Dean: home when?

  


Sammy: 6. Did u get my note?

  


Dean: no

  


Dean: nvm yes

  


Dean: ansem went out earlier

  


Sammy: yeah he came by for lunch

  


Dean: orderin for dinner what u want?

  


Sammy: not pizza

  


Dean: kk love u

  


Sammy: :) love u

  
  


*

  
  


  


*

  
  


“Dr. Webb.”

  
  


“Hey Zak.”

  
  


“Okay, now I can tell by your voice that something is wrong.”

  
  


“Yeah.  Can you tell me your thoughts on incest?”

  
  


“This is about Ansem and his brother.”

  
  


“Yeah.  Ansem’s been staying with Dean and I, because their dad found out.  Says they have to go to a shrink or else they can never go home.”

  
  


_Slow breath out_.  “You told me they were in love with each other.”

  
  


“They are.”

  
  


“Incest isn’t punishable by death anymore.  But, Sam, they have a hard road ahead of them...because they are twins, you said.  There are a number of psychological reasons that I could spout off to you and to them, but none of it will make any difference to their father.”   _Sighs._  “What do you want me to do?”

  
  


“Can you talk to them and give their father a clean bill of health?  Ansem is down with it, but like...Zak, they’re in love.”

  
  


“I get it Sam.  Now, can I change the topic for one second?”

  
  


“Sure. What’s up?”

  
  


“ _Dean moved in with you and you neglected to inform me?_!”

  
  


“Oh.  Yeah.  That happened.”

  
  


“Details, boy!”

  
  


“Well, I told you he came up here to see me after, and we...slept together, and then he just showed up like, two months later and had all his stuff.  I lost my room-mate so he just moved in.  It’s...well, it’s great.”

  
  


“I’m so glad for you, Sam.  Good luck.”

  
  


“Thanks, Zak.”

  
  


_Click._

  
  


*

  
  


  
  


  
*

  
  
  
  


*

  
  


“Hi, my name is Samuel Michael Hastings, I was adopted from your center approximately twenty years ago.  I’m not interested in contacting my birth parents, I was just...wondering about who they were.”

  
  


“Samuel Hastings...let me check our records.”

  
  


“Thanks.”

  
  


“Yeah, Samuel Winchester, I’ve got you right here.  Your birthday is May second?”

  
  


“No...November the 1st.”

  
  


“Huh.  Oh, I see, that’s a few days before you were placed in our agency.  I think they decided to change your birthday as our records were incomplete when you arrived.”

  
  


“Okay, May Second, I can roll with that.  What else?”

  
  


“Your mother died on November 2nd, there was an electrical fire in your nursery. Your father, brother and you got out safely.” 

  
  


“My brother?”

  
  


“Also placed in our care, but due to his age, he was moved to a different agency.”

  
  


“What was his name?”

  
  


“Dean.  Dean Winchester, born January 24th 1974.”

  
  


_Fumble. Click._

  
  


“...Oh God, oh God _no_....”

  
  


*End

TBC 

  


  


Year Nine

  


January 1st 2003-September 30th 2004

  


  


  
  



	9. Year Nine

 

  
**Year Nine**   


 

January 1st 2003 - November 2nd 2003

 

 

*

 

 

 

“Okay, dude. Spill it.”

 

 

 _Wince_. “Spill what?”

 

 

“Whatever’s wrong. ‘Cause dude? Kind of tired of you flinching whenever I touch you. So, what’d I do?”

 

 

“What do you remember of your family before you were adopted?”

 

 

“Uh...Sam...if this is some kind of no-sequiter...”

 

 

“Non-sequitur and answer me please.”

 

 

“My mother died in a house fire. I had a little brother, and I pulled him from his burning room. Dad put us up for adoption right away, he was too young, only six months old. He was born on May 2nd, and I was supposed to protect him. Only the Charleston’s came and adopted me right away, and wouldn’t take him with me. It’s probably why I call you Sammy...it’s what I called him, y’know?” _Suddenly suspicious._ “Why?”

 

 

“I...have something to tell you.”

 

 

“That sounds ominous.”

 

 

 _Hands papers over._ “Here.”

 

 

 _Reads_. “Jesus _fucking_ Christ.”

 

 

“Yeah I...Dean? Where are...”

 

 

  
_Gets up. Walks away._   


 

 

“...You going?” _Door slams._ *

 

 

 

 

 *

 

 

“This is Dr. Webb.”

 

 

“Zak? I can’t breathe.”

 

 

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

 

 

“He’s g-gone. Dean, he’s gone. Fuck, he left me. Zak, he left me!” _Sob._

 

 

“Dean left? Why? Sam, my boy...you need to breathe.”

 

 

“I can’t breathe. My lungs are collapsing and everything hurts. God, Zak I feel like I’m dying.”

 

 

“Tell me what happened.”

 

 

“Dean’s my brother. My brother.” _Sniffle. Hitching breath_. “I looked up my adoption agency, and asked about my information, and...and ...I was once Sam Winchester. And Dean, he remembers being Dean Winchester. _Fuck_ , Zak. He just _left_.”

 

 

“You’re brothers?” _Dry._ “Well who’d have thought.”

 

 

“Yeah. Brothers. My older brother has been fucking me. Jesus Christ.”

 

 

“Sam, you need to breathe.”

 

 

“I know.” _Shaky breaths_. “Thanks, Zak. God, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 

 

 _“I_ have no idea.” _Small chuckle._ “Hey, son? Remember what you told me? Things are never as bad as they seem. Give him time. You and Dean are soul mates, Sam. I know it.”

 

 

 _Hoarse_. “How?”

 

 

“‘Cause I’m an Angel, of course.”

 

 

 _Wet snort._ “Real angelic, Zak. Thanks, I’m...going to go clean up.”

 

 

“Call me if you feel like things are going south, and don’t do anything stupid.”   

 

 

“Yes Zak.”

 

 

  
_Click._   


 

 

*

 

   

 

 

 

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Hey Dean, it’s Sam. It’s been a week. I just...I want to you know you’re okay.” _Slow sigh_. “I miss...I miss you.”

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Dean, it’s Sammy. I want to check in...like usual. It’s been another week. I keep telling myself that I’m only going to call once a week on a Friday...I keep catching myself trying to call, like, I’ll dial and then hang up, and it’s...really, really sad. Sorry. Bye, Dean.”

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Another week gone by. Just...saying hi. Numbers still the same. I miss you.”

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Can you just, please let me know that you’re not dead?”

 

*

 

Dean: not dead sammy

Sammy: thank u

Dean: sorry cant see u yet

Sammy: its ok

Sammy: well no its not

Sammy: miss u

Dean: sorry sammy

 

*

 

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Dean, it’s Sam. I just...wanted to update you. Ansem called me last night. He and Andy moved out together, like a whole other state and everything. They’re up in Vermont, and yeah, they’re still brothers...but they’re together. They um, aren’t speaking to their dad, but at least they’re happy y’know? I thought...you’d want to know. Bye, Dean. I miss you.”

 

*

 

Dean: thanks sammy

Sammy: welcome

Dean: u ok?

Sammy: stupid question

Dean: sorry

Sammy: no not ok

Dean: sorry

Sammy: u ok?

Dean: not really

Sammy: dean come home

Dean: I cant

 

*

 

 

*

 

“Hi, this is Samuel Hast–Winchester. I was wondering if we could open my file again...I wanted to know who my father is. And if there is any contact info for him.”

 

“Of course, Samuel.”

 

 _Wince._ “It’s Sam, actually. Er, I prefer Sam.”

 

“Okay, so your father was named John Winchester, and there isn’t any contact information for him...but he did leave a next of kin behind. A Bobby Singer, I have a number for him.”

 

“I’ll take that. Anything, y’know?”

 

“Okay, Robert Singer...555-2900. Now, this contact information is twenty years out of date, so don’t get your hopes up too high.”

 

“Anything is better than nothing, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

 

 _Click._

 

 _*_

 __

 

*

 _Phone rings._

 

“Singer Salvage.”

 

 _Startled._ “Hi, sorry. I didn’t...think you were going to pick up. My name’s Sam Has....Winchester. My name is Sam Winchester. I don’t know if you remember me, or my father, but I got your number from my adoption file, you’re listed as John Winchester’s next of kin. I just...I wanted to know him, and I hoped you could help me.”

 

 _Surprised_. “Sam Winchester? Shit, you must be twenty years old.” _Low laugh_. “Yeah, I remember your father. Biggest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet. Loved his boys though, loved them enough to give them up when the going got tough.”

 

“Have you spoken to him lately?”

 

“He dropped off the map, son. Haven’t heard from your daddy in a long time. Besides which, he knows better, and the next time I see him I’ll shoot the old bastard in the leg, he knows it.”

 

 _Startled laugh_. “What’d he do?”

 

“Well boy, sit down and I’ll tell you about your daddy.”

 

*

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Dean, it’s me. I found one of dad’s old friends. His name is Bobby Singer, he works in a salvage yard in the middle of South Dakota, and he knows some of the best stories. Text me if you want his number. I didn’t tell him we were...lovers, but I said I had found you, entirely by accident.” _Sigh_. “I miss you.”

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“You, Mr. Dean Winchester. Are driving. Me insane. I think. I’m going crazy. Can masturbating make you blind? ‘Cause dude... _fuck_ , just thinking of you makes me hard as fucking nails and I really wish you were home so we could just be together again. Shit, _Dean_ you have no idea. I– _fuck_.” _Grunt._ “You left your whiskey here when you left.”

 

 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

 

“Ignore last message. Please. Ow, my head hurts.”

 

*

 

Dean: how much?

Sammy: ???

Dean: did u drink?

Sammy: uh...all of it?

Dean: !!!

Sammy: was depressed fuck u very much

Dean: drink water lots of water and have aspirin

Sammy: going to college know all this

Dean: hows class?

Sammy: really dean?

Dean: im tryin here sammy

Sammy: class is good

Dean: meet any boys?

Sammy: REALLY DEAN?

Dean: have u?

Sammy: NO

Dean: u should

Sammy: wont

Dean: Sammy...

Sammy: shut up & come home damnit

 

*

 

*

 

 _Knock on door._

 

“Yeah, hold on a second.”

 

 _More insistent knocking._

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, Jesus. Wait a fuckin’ min–....”

 

 _Door opens._

 

“Dean.” _Aborted step forward_. “Did you forget your keys?”

 

“Yeah...I left them on the beside table.” _Awkward silence._ “Shit Dean...what the fuck do we do now?”

 

“I don’t know, Sammy. I just...I know I can’t be away from you. God, we’ve been together...in so many different ways for what, nine fuckin’ years now? Jesus Christ Sam...I don’t know how to do this.”

 

 _Shaky sigh._ “Yeah, me either.”

 

“So what are we, Sammy? Brothers? Or lovers?”

 

 _Hysterical laugh_. “Both.”

 

“You’re not my brother, Sam. Yeah sure, a bit of paper and an adoption agency in fuck knows where says we are. But I don’t know you as my brother.”

 

 _Quietly._ “You told me once that you looked to me as a little brother, Dean.”

 

“Yeah...” _Soft laugh._ “That was a really a deflection. Dude, I know I’m oblivious but I’m not that bad.”

 

 _Eyebrow raise. Dead pan._ “What?”

 

“Man, you’re going to make me say it?”

 

“Hell fuckin’ _yes_ I’m going to make you say it.”

 

 _Covers face with one hand._ “Is there any Jack Daniels left?”

 

“No. And if there was, I wouldn’t let you have any. Just tell me, Dean.”

 

“You really drank the whole thing? Shit Sammy, you could have gotten alcohol poisoning, you have to be more careful!”

 

 _Flat look_. “Dean. Focus.”

 

“Fine!” _Pause_. “Before Crowley...I used to dream about you. Not when you were real young, like thirteen or whatever. But after you sent me that photo of you, after the growth spurt. I used to jerk off in the shower to...” _Pause. Blush_. “Well, you get it. I wasn’t entirely ignorant and I didn’t want to upset you, mostly because I thought you thought of me as a brother.” _Stratches back of his head_. “Then I got those pages and everything kind of fell into place.”

 

“So then...why did you leave, when I told you what the Agency said?”

 

“Because it was like a worst nightmare come true. And when I leave in my dreams, I always wake up. I wanted to wake up.”

 

“Not a dream, Dean. It’s all real. Now, the question is, do we just...continue as we are and hide that we’re brothers? Or do we forget about it?”

 

“I don’t know Sammy. I really don’t.”

 

*

 

 

*

  


  


  


*

  


  


 

 

*  

 

  
_Knocks on car window._   


 

 

  
_Window rolls down._   


 

 

“Hi, I’m Sam Hastings, and you’re being completely obvious and a total creeper, so what do you want with me and my brother?”

 

 

 _Sheepish._ “You look just like your mother.”

 

 

 _Hard_. “I wouldn’t know. My dad gave me up for adoption when I was six months old. Changed my date of birth and everything. I’m a whole six months older than I think I am. Who are you and what do you want?”

 

 

“You know who I am, otherwise you wouldn’t have come down here. You’d have called the cops.”

 

 

“What makes you think I didn’t do that already?”

 

 

 _Wary_. “Did you?” “No, but my brother will if I give him the signal.”

 

 

“Brother?”

 

 

“Yup. Now, _John Winchester_ , mind telling your youngest son what the hell you’re doing here? Stalking his apartment? Being a total creeper. Did I mention that part?”

 

 

“You’ve done your research.”

 

 

“I spent four semesters as a Law Student. It pays. You going to answer any of my questions, Winchester?”

 

 

 _Slow smile._ “You’re a smart kid.”

 

 

 _Rolls eyes._ “I’m twenty. Get out of the car and come upstairs already, Christ.”

 

 

*

 

 

  


 

 

 

 

  
*    


 

 

  
“Zachariah, what made you have this change of heart?”    


 

 

  
_Snort._ “You know, Castiel, when Sam told me that you were the one who began their relationship, I was shocked. And here you are, same as always.”    


 

 

  
“You called me here. I am merely ascertaining the reason for doing so.”    


 

 

  
“I don’t think I could explain it to you if I tried, Castiel.”    


 

 

  
“Try.”    


 

 

  
“It is...hard for any of the Host to admit they were wrong. You know this. In this war between Heaven and Hell, I have always been on the side of Heaven. But our orders haven’t come from our Father, not for many years. And we...that is, Sam and I...he connected to me, Castiel.”    


 

 

  
“He’s good at that.”    


 

 

  
“I grew up with him. I watched him grow. He isn’t a monster. He’s just a _boy._ ”    


 

 

  
_Small smile_. “Yes. I know.”    


 

 

  
“I only have one question, before we undo this Universe.”    


 

 

  
“Yes?”    


 

 

  
“Were you _really_ sleeping with him?”    


 

 

  
“Uh.”    


 

 

  
“God’s Blood you were!” _Laughs._ “How was that experience?”    


 

 

  
“Humanizing.”    


 

 

  
“This will ruin them, Castiel.”    


 

 

  
“They deserve to know.”    


 

 

  
“I know they do. Especially Sam. He has become my friend. Against all odds, he has become my friend.”    


 

 

  
“I understand the feeling, Zachariah. A word of caution though... do not let Uriel find out.”    


 

 

“ I won’t. Thank you, Castiel.”

 

 

  
“For what?”    


 

 

  
“Listening.”   


 

 

  
*   


 

  
  


 

 

 

  
*    


 

 

  
_Hoarse. “_ Sammy.”    


 

 

  
_Confused._ “Yeah Dean?”    


 

 

  
“Fuck, I _give up_. We’re not brothers. We’re not. I lo....” _Grunt._   


 

 

  
“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.”    


 

 

  
“Shut up, Sammy. You just shut up.” _Desperate kiss_. “I love you, okay? I fuckin’ love you.”    


 

 

  
_Small smile_. “Yeah Dean. Love you too.”    


 

 

  
*End   


 

 


	10. Year Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Many of these pictures are NSFW. Also, CHARACTER DEATH - not either of our boys though and the death itself is off screen.

Year Ten:  
December 1st 2003 - June 8th 2004

  


  
*

“Fuck, _Dean_ , fuck... c’mon...Jesus _Christ_ Dean....” _Pants. Writhes_.  “Fucking _get on_ with it.”

 _Low laugh._   “Giving up already, Sammy?”

“What do you mean, already? It’s been _two fucking hours!_ ”

 _Grin._ “What’s the magic word Sammy?” _Stroke. Twist._

“ _FUCK_!”

“Ah-ah-ah, Sammy.  That’s not it.”

“Dean!”

“That’s not it either, even though it sounds _so_ good.”  _Rub._

“Fuckfuckfuck!” _Desperate. Bucks._

“C’mon Sammy, just give me what I want...”

“Wouldyoujusttakethisfuckingringoffalready?!” _Whine._

“Close, but no–.”

 _Phone rings._

“Your phone is ringing, Sammy.  Should I answer it?”

“ _You should let me fucking come you giant dickbag_!”

“Wrong answer!” _Picks up phone._   “Yeah?”  _Pause._ “Hi, Zak.  No, this is Dean.”  _Pause._ “It’s good to talk to you too, what’s up?” _Pause_.  “Sam’s a bit indisposed right now.”  _Laugh._   “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Dr. Webb.”  _Muffled exclamation._ “Okay, I’ll let him know and he’ll call you when he’s done.”

 _Click._

“Now, where were we?”

“Shut the fuck up Dean and –nngh!” _Arch.  Writhe._

“What was that, Sammy?”

“Fuck, Jesus Christ _Dean_ , please!”

“Much better.”  _Twist. Stroke._

“Nngh! _Dean_!”  _Release._

*

Dean: called ash 4 u  
Sam: huh?  
Dean: u missed class called him to get notes 4 u  
Sam: time is it?  
Dean: almost 3.  
Sam: WHAT  
Dean: wore u out I must have  
Sam: stfu yoda and bring me pizza  
Dean: yessir

*

  
*

Sammy: if I tear out ur drawings ull what?  
Dean: withhold sex?  
Sammy: askin or tellin  
Dean: fuck off  
Sammy: :P  
Dean: gonna be late at shop  
Sammy: y?  
Dean: car with lots of issue  
Sammy: like what?  
Dean: his sister needed to be blessed  
Sammy: uh  
Sammy: what?  
Sammy: that makes no sense  
Dean: dude?  
Sammy: go back and read what u wrote!!  
Dean: Doh!  
Dean: his system needed to be flushed  
Sammy: how’d u manage that?  
Dean: autocorrect. It’s a bitch.

*  


*

 

  
 _Hey this is Dean, I’m not around. Leave me a message._

“Deaaaann...you’re a total dickhead. Way to leave me here without the car.  If you’re out getting beer, I will END YOU.  Call me back and come get me!”

 _Hey it’s Sam, you know what to do._

“Sammy! Jesus, you just called me, how are you not answering your phone? I’m on my way, you giant girl.  With chinese food and beer.  Does the chinese make it better?  Sit tight.”  
 _  
Hey this is Dean, I’m not around.  Leave me a message._

“Dean, really?  Tag. You’re it.”  
 _  
Hey it’s Sam, you know what to do._

“Sam, it’s C—ahem.  It’s Jim.  I left you a message on your refrigerator, but maybe you didn’t see it.  Maybe because you have a thousand other post it notes on your refrigerator. I told you to call me, and it’s been many days since then.  Call me back, Sam.  It’s important.”  
 _  
Hey this is Dean, I’m not around.  Leave me a message._

“Deano, this is your dad.  Well.  It’s Mr. Charleston.  Your real dad came by the house.  Look, there’s something we need to tell you.”

 _Hey, it’s Sam, you know what to do._

“Sam, it’s Cast–...” _Beep._

Click.

*

Sammy: been gettin weird msgs from jim  
Dean: weird like how?  
Sammy: weird like...  
Sammy: dunno  
Sammy: weird like he gets his name wrong  
Dean: that is weird  
Sammy: wants me to call him  
Sammy: thoughts?  
Dean: call him  
Dean: might be interesting

*  


  


*

 _You’ve reached Andy and Ansem, and we’re real busy now, so leave us one and we’ll call you when we feel like it._

Snort. “Andy, Anse, its Sam.  Just calling ‘cause I wanted to know if you care that I’m using a bunch of sketches I did of you back in high school in my Portfolio.  Just give me a ring back, when you can.  Or when you feel like it.”

 _You’ve reached the voice mail box of... “why do you want me to say my name? I don’t understand”... is not available.  Please leave a message after the tone._

“Hey Jim, you should really change your voice mail greeting.  You sound like a total moron.  Anyway, I’m giving you that call back and I also have a question.  Can I use a sketch I did of you in my portfolio for class?  Just let me know when you get this, okay?  And then you can tell me about what’s so important.  I miss you.  Come over more.”  
 _  
Hey this is Dean, I’m not around.  Leave me a message._

“Hey you, it’s me.  Call me when you get this.  Loveyoubye!”

*

Dean: whats up?  
Sammy: had a ?  
Dean: wha?  
Sammy: can I use ur pictures in portfolio?  
Dean: ...which ones  
Sammy: u at the fence  
Sammy: older u from weird dream  
Dean: sure  
Sammy: u jerkin off 4 me  
Dean: SAM  
Sammy: what? Its art  
Dean: u cant give that 2 people!!  
Sammy: prude  
Dean: am not  
Sammy: are too  
Dean: argue later when I get home  
Sammy: still using it  
Sammy: sealing envelope now  
Sammy: loveu  
Dean: dickbag  
Sammy: assbutt  
Dean: ASSBUTT?

  
*

  
*

“We need a plan of action, Castiel.”

“Sam has been calling my cell phone every few days.  I am not ready to bestow upon him the knowledge he has been lied to for his entire life.”

 _Slowly._ “Sam already remembers some of his life as Sam Winchester.  He used to dream about it.  Come to think of it though, he hasn’t mentioned the dreams in a while.”

“Is this because he ceased having them or because he ceased speaking about them?”

 _Thoughtful._   “I have no idea.”

“How do we tell them they are brothers? How do we tell them they are living lives that aren’t even real?”

“They already know they’re brothers, Castiel.”

“They...do?”

“Of course they do.  Sam figured it out months ago.  They had a bit of a falling out but from what I understand, they’ve moved past it.  Possibly because Andy and Ansem are also brothers.”  _A little sheepish_. “In order for my plan to work, Sam needed to understand about...relationships such as the one he was interested in having.”

 _Absently._ “You weren’t far off the mark, either, brother.  The eldest Gallagher wanted a relationship such as that.  It drove him to madness.”

“Mm, well.  I refined the designed a little.” 

“So then, that leaves us with this, Zachariah.  How do we tell them everything they know is a lie?”

“We just do, Castiel.  We just do.  We’ll meet them in Palo Alto tomorrow.”

“Agreed.  I will see you there, Zachariah.”

“Good luck, Castiel.”

“You may call me Cas, if you wish.  Dean does, after all.”

 _Vanish._

*

  


*

“Sam, it’s good to see you.”  _Rough embrace._

“Hey Zak.  What’s so important that Jim got in contact with you?  Where is Jim anyway?”

“He was...unavoidably detained.  Where’s Dean?”

 _Looks at watch._   “Work still.  He’ll be there for another three hours, why?”

“This will be easier without him here, I think.”

 _Confused._   “Um.  What the hell do you have to tell me, Zak?”

“What if everything you’ve ever known was a lie, Sam?  What would you do?” _Holds up hand._ “No, let me speak.  Do you remember your dreams, Sam?”

“Yes.  Hard to forget them.”

“Do you still get them?”

“Not anymore.  They faded a lot when I turned 22.”

 _Faint surprise_.  “22? Odd.  Look, Sam.  I want to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For what I’m about to do.”  _Light touch._   “When you wake up, you’ll hate me again.  Just the way it should be.”  
 _  
Collapse._

*  
 _  
Hey, it’s Sam.  You know what to do._

“Sam, it’s Dean.  Where are you?  I got home and you’re not here.  No note.  Are you still with Zak?  Call me back.”

 _Hey, it’s Sam.  You know what to do._

“Sam, it’s Dean again.  It’s been like, two hours dude.  Where the fuck are you?”  
 _  
Hey, it’s Sam.  You know what to do._

“Sam! Jesus Christ, this better not be about what my dad said.  Come on, Sammy.”  
 _  
Hey, it’s Sam.  You know what to do._

“Sammy, please.  Just call me.”

*

“Hello, Dean.”

 _Startled._ “Who the hell are you?

“My name is Castiel.  I’m an Angel of the Lord.”

 _Laughs_.  “You must be Jim.”

“Yes, sometimes I’m him too.”

“Do you know where Sam is?”

“Sam’s waiting for you, Dean.  And please, accept my apology in how long it has taken me to gather up courage to do this.”

“Do what?”

 _Light touch._ “When you wake, you’ll be in the last place Dean Winchester remembers being.  But you’ll also remember Dean Charleston.  Whatever it is you do from here, Dean, do not leave him behind.”

 _Collapses._

*  


  


*

 _Door unlocks.  Door opens._

“Sam.”

 _Slow breath in._ “Dean.”

“You remember too?”

“Y-yeah.  I remember too.  I remember everything.”

“Me too.”  
 _  
Silence._

“What now, Sammy?”

“I don’t know Dean.”  _Sits on opposite bed_.  “Its like, I remember living two lives.  But...neither of them were mine.”

“We were fucking, Sam.  How do you get passed that?  Fuck, this is worse than when I was Dean Smith and you were Sam Wesson.  Shit.  Cas was in on this.”

“No, I don’t think he was.”  _Thoughtful._ “I’m pretty sure this was all Zak–I mean, Zachariah.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Sam.”

 _Suddenly worried._ “Do what Dean?”

“This.” _Gestures._ “Us.  The...you’re my little brother but I know what you look like when you come.”

“You didn’t care in the...other place.”  _Desperate._   “Dean what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s my turn, Sam.  That this time, I get to leave.  Don’t follow me.  Don’t call me.  I need...to get my head on straight.  Be safe and call Bobby if you have any...issues.”

“Dean, you can’t do this.”

“I can Sam.  But more than that, I have to.”

“Dean...!”

 _Door closes._

 _Engine starts._

“Zak?  Zak? Cas? Someone?  _Please.._.”

*

  
*

“Hello Sam.”

“Cas!  Thank God, Cas.”

 _Slight smile._ “Your brother told me where to find you.  I have news.”

“Of Dean?”

“No.  Dean has asked to remain unfound. I will respect his wishes.  For now.  Though our relationship in the Other Place was far from conventional...I wish to continue our friendship through other means.”  
 _  
Soft snort_.  “I’d like that.  Is that what you had to tell me?”

“No.  Zachariah is dead.”

 _Chokes_.  “Wow, that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.  What happened?”

“Uriel.”

“Uriel?”

“He did not enjoy the knowledge that Zachariah had switched sides.  He killed him.  But.  I am here Sam.  And I will help you if I can.”

“I just want my brother back, Cas.”

“Give him time, Sam.  And...here.”  _Holds out bag._   “These are yours.”

“What are they?”

“Your sketch books from the Other Place.  The artwork inside of them is...quite stunning and I felt you should have the reminders.  Good luck, Sam.  You will call me if you have need of anything.”

“Yes, Cas.  I’ll call you.”

 _Vanish._

*

*  


TBC Year Eleven:

2009


	11. Year Eleven

** Year Eleven **

  


2008 - 2010

 

  
  


  


  


  


_Hey, this is Dean. Leave me a message._

“Dean, it’s Sam. Look, I know you need space, and things are...really fucking weird. But, Dean, I’m in the hospital. I’m hunting a Vyrkolas, and it nearly sliced me from nose to naval. I need help man. I can’t do this one by myself.” _Pause._ “And, I miss you. Call me, okay?”

 _Click._

 _Phone rings._

 _Surprise_. “Dean?”

“Shit, Sammy, are you okay?”

“You were totally screening your calls, you dick!” _Scowl._ “I’m fine. Stitched up and sore as hell but I’m fine.”

“And the Vyrkolas?”

“Still fucking at large. Dude, it’s killing children. I need help.”

“I’ve got this. Where are you?”

“Miami.”

 _Pause._ “Wait, seriously?”

 _Low laugh_. “Um, yes. Miami.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

 _Click._

*

  
“So, who’s Eric?”

 _Confused face_. “Um. Who?”

“In your journal. You had a note from an Eric, telling you to call. Boyfriend?”

“Case.”

“I mean, if he’s your boy-what, case?”

 _Laughs_. “Yeah Dean. His son was taken by the Vyrkolas last. He sent me that message at the motel I was staying at. The girl behind the desk gave it to me. Once I got there, more children had disappeared. Did you kill the thing?”

“It’s dead as a doornail, Sammy. Salted and burned the bones for good measure. You took good notes, babe.”

 _Shock. Faint surprise._ “Babe?”

 _Soft smile._ “Here, Sam. Read your journal. I’ll be back with some coffee.”

*

  


  


  


  


  


  


*End

  
  


**DVD Extras** Coming Soon!

  


(In which I show you that most of the places I mentioned are actually Real)


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